Sinister

The jacket was warm. That's the first thing I noticed as John took hold of me and we left the room. When he shoved me in the back of his car, I understood why I was wearing this. It wasn't for the cold at all.

It was to weigh my body down while he watched me die.

My mind spiraled. This was wrong. He'd changed how he killed. It didn't make any sense, and yet, it made all the sense in the world. No one would be able to track him if a body was discovered drowned. It would probably be ruled as an accident, even.

"Don't do this," I said, my voice the only thing to slice through the silence as he drove.

"Why not?" John asked, like he actually gave a shit. "No one will ever find you. You'll be dead before Scott can reach you. Your death will be his fault."

"No," I whispered. "It will be your fault."

John laughed coldly. "What I don't understand is how you didn't see this coming. With what you're able to do, surely you would have seen your death when I decided it."

"It doesn't work that way," I told him. He hadn't bothered to bind my hands, so I put my hands onto the passenger seat. "I don't always get every decision someone makes when I touch something that belongs to them. Take this jacket for instance. It's yours, but you've barely worn it. There's more of Sophia's memories and decisions here than yours."

"I've thought about your death ever since Eden told me you and your partner visited her. You know, before I killed her."

God, he was fucking cruel.

"But I had to get away, you understand. I needed to form a plan. I was going to get you away from Scott, whether you were conscious to stop me or not. I like the latter better. It's so much easier when they don't fight."

Now I understood why my vision was taken. They were trying to help me, to tell me what they saw for my life. That it was going to end soon, if I didn't stop the threat looming."

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the seat. When the car finally stopped, I heard John turn to face me. When his hand buried in my hair, I didn't move.

"Come now," he said gently. "You don't really think I'd just kill you without seeing how feisty you are first?"

He yanked my hair, practically pulling me from the car, onto the ground below. When John pinned my hands above my head and straddled me, he smiled.

"Fight," he ordered.

It was winter, barely, but as I turned my head to look at the water, I noticed it was frozen. Panic erupted inside my chest and I started to cry.

"Don't." He gripped my jaw, forcing me to look at him.

Above him, stars glistened in the inky black sky.

"Charlotte," he said, sweeping my hair from my eyes. "Do you want to live?"

"Yes," I whispered.

John released me, sat in a crouch, and nodded. "Then you're going to do something for me, darling. Remember, I hold your life in my hands."

When he told me what he wanted, I nearly threw up.

"I won't," I snarled, finding my voice. I sat up and watched his smile fade. When he grabbed me again this time, he started walking.

Toward the lake.

"You will, or you'll die. Those are your terms."

"Fuck you," I spat. I was huddled at his side, my heart crumpling. "Please don't do this." Terrified, I struggled. "Please, John."

But he didn't stop. Instead, he stepped onto the lake and pulled me with him. Plates of ice shifted beneath us as I realized the whole thing wasn't frozen over, just the part we stood on. The rest was water.

Ice cracked, and there was nothing but cold rushing into my lungs. I could see him, above me, the ice distorting his face. But through a small patch of water, his hand held me down. I pressed my hands against the ice around me, but it didn't budge.

I was going to die.

Then, when I thought my lungs were going to betray me, I could breathe. The air around me was frigid. I was picked up and placed back on dry land. Everything hurt. I couldn't stop gasping.

John gazed at me, his mouth twisted.

"That was just a sample of what I would do. Now, call Scott and tell him where you are, and when he gets here, kill him."